


Harmony

by CordeliaRose



Series: Music series [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, fem!merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:59:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CordeliaRose/pseuds/CordeliaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story dedicated to musicnlyrics on fanfiction.net. Merlin, maid and best friend to the king, is slightly suspicious of the visiting nobles from a magic-loving kingdom. Can she figure out if they are truly up to something dark before it's too late? Especially since her life's just got that little bit better, thanks to a certain knight. fem!Merlin/Percival. Post season 4, before season 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A couple of new maids passed Merlin, eyes widening as they took in her baggy shirt and trousers, complete with navy neckerchief. Evidently they hadn't heard about her infamous fashion sense yet. She simply carried on walking, peering over the top of the stack of Arthur's armour so she could actually see. The now gossiping women turned the corner, and Merlin heard squeals and high-pitched apologies as they ran into someone. Someone male, by the sound of it. More squealing followed as the deep voice told them 'no worries, m'ladies, it's fine'. Merlin rolled her eyes as she imagined the two blonde airheads curtsying and batting their eyelids.

"Merlin!" Oh, joy. It was Thomas, the head of servants. Merlin guessed that he could be considered handsome – and was by most maidservants (and a few of the manservants) – in the castle with his rugged good looks, consisting of mahogany, curly locks and hazel eyes, complete with a tall, muscular build. To be honest, for all of his sweet lines and charming gazes, he was hiding an absolute prat underneath. An absolute prat who just had to be utterly fixated with her. Not Eliza, the kitchen girl who wore short skirts and low cut tops and threw herself onto both servants and knights like a leech. No, her, plain old Merlin, who had next to no figure showing at any time, and who was considered ugly – by herself, that was.

"Thomas! I haven't seen you for a month!" _Why couldn't it have been two?_

"I know…I've missed you." Merlin resisted the urge to flinch away as he neared her. He reminded her of a wolf, with his smile that showed all of his teeth and the way he prowled rather than walked. He was doing it now, stalking instead of strolling towards her. When he held out his hand she accepted it out of politeness and respect for his position, nothing else, and she had to repress a shudder as he pressed his lips to her knuckles. She never understood that gesture; women didn't do anything back apart from simper and blush and perhaps curtsy. None of which Merlin did. Instead, she managed to put down the armour she had been holding precariously with one hand so it didn't fall over and then faced Thomas, bowing her head slightly in return.

Thomas looked slightly put out by her reaction, or lack thereof – most women would have fainted by now – but quickly regained his 'pride'. Puffing out his chest, he said, "The banquet tonight – your services are required. To serve the king and queen with drink."

Merlin already knew this, but she smiled and nodded anyway. "Thank you, Thomas, I shan't forget."

"Good," he said and nodded pompously. With that he marched away, hands clasped behind his back, pausing only once to give her a wink over his shoulder.

"Arrogant idiot," she muttered darkly, stooping to pick up the armour again.

"Who does he think he is," she continued to herself as she made her way down the stairs, "just 'knowing' that I desire him? Because I most certainly do not," she added hastily, as if someone was there listening. "He's even worse than Arthur."

Merlin's talking to herself was a nice distraction, and also proved to be short lived when she overestimated where a step was and slipped through thin air's feeble grasp. She gave an involuntary shriek, falling forwards, and dropped the armour. Luckily she was only ten steps or so from the bottom, and so when she hit the ground, it pressing cold and hard into her cheek, she was no more than a little dazed, and only one side of her face hurt – the side she'd landed on, funnily enough.

"Merlin? Merlin!" Her groggy mind recognized a voice, though she couldn't put a name or face to it for a second. Then it clicked and she smiled. Percival.

She heard a clanging of armour as he brushed things out of the way and barely had time to think about complaining indignantly about how she had just polished all that, before she was hauled – gently, she had to admit – to her feet and examined by an anxious Percival. "You alright?"

"Yeah, m'fine."

Percival scanned her face, his hands on her shoulders. "You should go to Gaius. Just in case."

"But the armour -"

"I'll deal with the armour. You go to Gaius."

"Thank you Percival." She shot him a small smile before pivoting and heading down the corridor that led to the physician's chambers, rubbing her cheek. Percival watched her go worriedly. She was going the right way – that meant she didn't have a concussion, right?

LINE BREAK

"Can I come in?" Percival called from outside the king and queen's joint chambers. An answer was yelled from inside so Percival entered, easily balancing the king's armour on one hand. Gwen smiled at him from her position at the table.

"Percival? Where's Merlin?" Arthur asked, walking out from behind the screen (fully-clothed).

"She fell down the stairs. Don't worry," he added as Gwen began to stand up, "she's fine. I sent her to Gaius just in case though."

"Good," Arthur said, looking relieved.

"Percival!" Merlin called. The knight turned and smiled as the maid jogged down the stairs to meet him. Predictably, she tripped on the second to last one and fell into Percival's waiting arms.

"Thank you," she said, a little breathlessly. "For that and for taking the armour back. I'll return the favour."

"No need," Percival said, smiling and helping Merlin steady herself. "Gaius said you're alright then?"

"Mm-hm! Well, apart from this," Merlin said, turning her face so Percival could see a large angry bruise on her cheek.

"Ouch…no permanent damage though?"

"No, luckily. It's training now, right?"

"Right. Can I escort you, my lady?"

"You most certainly can, Sir Knight."

LINE BREAK

Arthur applauded when Merlin stepped out. "Here comes Camelot's greatest balancing act!"

Merlin flushed a bright crimson. Percival thought on his feet, replying, "You shouldn't mock an injured woman, Arthur!"

"Injured?" Gwaine asked, the laughter abruptly stopping.

Merlin turned her pretty head to the side, showing off an impressive multi-coloured bruise that spanned almost her entire right cheek. Next to her porcelain skin, the purple looked livid and a small cut above her metallic blue eye completed the picture. Even Arthur winced.

"Knights, we'll do some basic sparring. Pair off – Percival, with me." Percival nodded his head in understanding. "Merlin, sit down somewhere and rest."

Merlin grinned at the unusual show of affection and sat down half in and half out of the shade, still beaming.

Percival and Arthur moved near to Merlin, who kept up a running commentary about their fighting, as loudly as possible for everyone's benefit.

"Percival lunges and oh! Arthur barely manages to defend. But now the king's attacking and oh, that was an underhand move, you sly person, Arthur."

Arthur stopped them all after an hour, successfully tired out. Merlin stopped her comments, realizing there was nothing left to comment about. But when Arthur waved everyone over, she started again, this time about Arthur as if he wasn't there.

"Well done, men, you all did well today -"

"You better have done, you're the ones who fight to keep the Camelotians alive -"

"We'll meet same time tomorrow –"

"He overworks all of us -"

"Merlin, shut up!"

"I swear he thinks I'm deaf -"

"Merlin, I'm losing my patience!"

"And now he's lying, pretending he ever had any patience in the first place! The prat, honestly…" Merlin tutted and stood.

Arthur took a deep breath, closed his eyes and counted to ten. "Will someone please go and get the practice dummies left over there?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"I will," Percival said, walking over to the discarded models at the base of an oak tree, which was being chopped down by two servants.

"I will too," Merlin chirped, skipping over to help him, joining the older knight by the base of the large tree.

"Now that the distraction's gone –" Arthur started, but was cut off by the sound of a tree breaking and yells. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the tree trunk fall down…and Percival and Merlin right where it was going to land.

I thought you were funny," Percival said, bending to collect a limp dummy.

"Glad to hear it," Merlin replied, doing likewise. They shared a grin but were both distracted by a snapping sound. They both looked behind themselves and saw the tree about to fall, its path focused directly on them.

Merlin didn't think, and nor did her magic. She reacted by instinct and with molten irises time came to an almost standstill. In the extra-added seconds she had enough time to push her and Percival out of the way.

Time returned to normal, and as a large boom hit her ears Merlin winced, thinking of what could have happened if they'd both been underneath. Then she blushed as she realized she was lying on top of Percival. With a stammered apology, she slid off. They both climbed to their feet and Percival picked a stray leaf out of Merlin's messy bun.

"Thanks for that," Percival said, slightly out of breath.

"I said I'd return the favour."

"You just saved my life. I returned armour to Arthur."

"Ah, but you see, if Arthur hadn't have gotten his armour back I would have been killed."

"Are you two alright?" Arthur asked frantically, appearing round the side of the trunk, closely followed by Leon, Gwaine and Elyan.

"He's the one who would have killed me," Merlin said to Percival, pointing at Arthur in case he hadn't got whom she was talking about.

Arthur stared at Merlin for a moment, before deciding, "Well, Merlin's fine. Percival?"

"I'm fine."

"Good. Don't ever scare me like that again," Arthur said accusingly.

"Wasn't exactly our fault that a bloody tree nearly fell on us!" Merlin exclaimed indignantly.

LINE BREAK

"I think that was very unfair of Arthur, blaming us for a tree nearly crushing us!"

"Let it go, Merlin," Percival chuckled.

"I'm not letting it go until I get out of shock," Merlin said seriously.

"You're in shock, are you?"

"Yes! If you come by Gaius' later I'll have a blanket and everything."

"I'll bear that in mind. Well, goodbye," Percival said as they reached his chambers.

"Goodbye! Hello," as Gwen rushed up and squeezed her arm.

"Come on!" Gwen trilled, dragging the maid down the corridor. "I've got a surprise for you!"

"What is it? Oh, no, wait, it's a surprise, you can't tell me." Merlin rolled her eyes. "I hate surprises."

"This is a good surprise. Trust me. It's for the feast tonight."

"Oh, the feast! The one where Thomas will be trying to talk to me at every spare opportunity. Yay!" Merlin fake cheered. Gwen looked at her sympathetically – she was the only one who knew about her dislike of the head servant.

"Yes, well, I thought you needed to be smartly dressed. So I got you something to wear!"

"Oh no," Merlin moaned as they reached Gwen's chambers. "It's not a dress is it?"

"Yes. And you are wearing it."

When they got inside, Gwen picked up a gold and black dress from the bed. Merlin grabbed it and stared at it in shock. "It's beautiful! I actually want to wear it. I want to wear a dress. What's happening to me, Gwen?"

Gwen merely laughed and directed Merlin to the screen. "Get changed, you idiot, and we'll see how it looks."


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin frowned at herself in the hanging mirror. In the looking glass, she could see her head and the upper half of her torso; and what a flaunting upper torso it was.

The dress was very low cut, and the bodice underneath pushed up breasts she wasn't really aware she had. The gold and black complimented her pale and flawless skin; her hair was still in a messy bun but a strand or two had fallen out and lay across her shoulder, the contrast like coal against snow.

Her lips were slightly chapped but somehow ere even more beautiful with that feature. They were a rosy pink, the bottom larger than the top, and Merlin ran her tongue over them nervously.

Two sparkling blue eyes grinned at her. Don't worry, they seemed to say, it'll be fine!

"Merlin? Are you stuck?" Gwen called from the other side of the changing screen.

Merlin snapped back into the world that everyone else inhabited, and out of hers. "No, I'm fine. Just a second!"

With one final adjustment, tugging the bodice up and the skirt down (the two actions immediately cancelled each other out) Merlin stepped out from behind the wooden screen.

"Perfect," was all Gwen said.

Before the serving girl had a chance to react, the queen had zipped over and was fussing around her, humming like a bee in a comb.

"Gwen…?"

"Who's going to be at this feast?"

"Oh, the visiting dignitaries from Eglesgott," Gwen replied.

"Where?"

"Eglesgott – they're a magic-loving kingdom," Gwen explained. "Arthur wanted to get to know them a little better, and as long as they use no magic in Camelot they're welcome."

Merlin's throat went dry, "W-why…Surely Arthur doesn't want to meet sorcerers?"

"I think he's warming to magic a bit, actually, you know," Gwen said thoughtfully.

Merlin processed this bit of information slowly, mulling it over in her intelligent mind.

The clomping of boots signalled Arthur's return. Covered in mud and sweat, he grinned, still breathing heavily from the exertion of training, and greeted both of them. Then he paused, staring at Merlin for a period of time that was long enough to be incredibly awkward.

"What?" Merlin finally asked, feeling self-conscious and resisting the urge to look down at the dress.

"You look…like a woman," Arthur said slowly and tactlessly.

"Arthur!" Gwen scolded.

"Sorry." Arthur corrected himself with a shake of the head, "You look beautiful Merlin."

And indeed she did – two strands of her hair had been pinned back, even on each side, and the rest was loose down her back, slightly wavy from the bun.

Gwen had even managed to get her to wear heels.

"Well, the feast starts in an hour; do you think you can manage not to mess anything you're wearing up until then?" Gwen asked Merlin, with the air of a mother trying to explain to her child why they shouldn't hit the dog with a chair.

"Yes," Merlin said determinedly.

LINE BREAK

The feast was actually interesting; Arthur was slightly on guard with the monarchs of Eglesgott, but apart from that it was a lot of fun. Merlin was slightly surprised at the admiring glances she was getting, both from the men and the women, but focused instead on serving Arthur and Gwen with wine. Fortunately it was not a job that needed doing too frequently, so until she was needed she could slink into the shadows and creep round to talk to the knights, seated at a side table.

It was on one such occasion when Merlin realized Percival was beckoning her over.

With a slight skip in her step, she bounded over and bent down so Percival could talk to her easier, unknowingly presenting him with a view all the way down her top.

He coughed uncomfortably and whispered, "Is it just me, or does that visiting lord look a little…sneaky; like he's up to no good."

Merlin cast a glance towards the 'up-to-no-good' lord. He reminded her of a horse; he had a rather long face and pronounced nose, and true to Percival's word, he was rather shiftily looking around. Merlin could almost see the cogs in his brain, whirring around and plotting how to sneak out without drawing attention to himself.

"It's not just you, I can see it too…oh well, I should really stop judging people. He's probably just got that look around him."

"You're probably right. Oh, I think Arthur's wine's run out," Percival said, indicating the king, who was in comfortable conversation with the horse faced man.

"Bye!" Merlin hurried back to Arthur's side and carefully tipped the jug she was holding to fill up his goblet once more. A little splashed onto the white tablecloth and Merlin winced as it spread and spread. Oops.

Gwen sniggered behind her hand as Merlin discreetly pulled a platter of graphs over the stain. "You saw nothing," she hissed to Gwen on the way out.

LINE BREAK

"I trust the feast went alright?" Thomas asked snootily, sniffing disdainfully as he did. The candlelight threw their flickering shadows on the wall as they walked through the castle.

"It did, actually. It was a lot of fun, even though I was only on the side-lines."

There was a small pause as Thomas opened his mouth but said nothing. He closed his mouth and seemed to ponder something. Then, finally, just as the silence was about to become awkward, he quizzed, "Merlin, do you believe in position?"

"I'm sorry?" Merlin asked, a little surprised by the seemingly random question.

"Sorry – let me clarify that. Do you believe that people are born with positions and should stay in those positions?"

"Well, no – for one thing, look at our Queen. Born a servant. I think there are boundaries that need to be stuck too but apart from that people should be free to live their life."

"I was hoping you'd say that…"

"Why?" Merlin asked suspiciously; Thomas had a gleam in his eye, and it wasn't a good one.

"Servants are meant to act with dignity at all times, and be proper in public."

"Y-eeees. Your point?"

"And to be proper and dignified, would you say a strict servant to servant relationship is required at all times in public?"

"Yes. But it's not, because of what I said earlier. Can you get to your point? All this is making my head hurt."

"My point is – servants should be allowed to kiss is public, do you agree?"

"Wha – yes." Before Merlin had time to question the randomness of that statement Thomas grabbed her wrists.

"Thomas, what are you doing?"

Her only response was his lips pressed against hers, and his force driving her back into the wall. She had no time to struggle before his arms circled her waist and held her captive to him. Merlin resisted the urge to kick Thomas somewhere very hard where it would hurt very much and instead tried to prise his hands from her waist.

He drew back off her, breathing heavily. "Sorry – that was very rude. I bid you good night."

"Thomas!" He had already scampered round the corner. Merlin slid down the wall shakily and hugged her knees. She thought he was going to – no, stop it, Merlin. Thomas would never do that…right?

LINE BREAK

"Merlin?" There was a gentle knocking at her door, accompanying the familiar voice.

"Percival?" Merlin asked groggily, standing up and wandering over to the door.

"You're late," was the greeting.

"Good morning to you too," Merlin groaned. Then it hit her. "I'm late?"

"Arthur's getting impatient," Percival said. Then, with a questioning look, "Are you alright?"

Merlin froze like a deer in headlights. "Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're still in your dress from last night. Get to bed late?"

"You could say that," Merlin muttered, reaching behind her to try and undo the laces. "Percival, could you…?"

'What? Oh, of course…"

The tension in the room was tangible. Merlin blushed as Percival came up to stand beside her and deftly undid the laces. His warm fingers brushed her back for a fraction of a second and she shivered at the unfamiliar touch. "Sorry," he said quickly."

"It's fine," Merlin replied, equally fast.

Percival finished his fumbling and strode out of her room, closing the door behind him to allow her modesty.

LINE BREAK

"I think you jest, Sir Knight," Merlin grinned.

"I think I do not jest, Lady Merlin," Percival replied.

"I'm not a lady," Merlin laughed, "I'm only a servant."

"But to me, you are a lady," Percival said seriously.

"You flatter me, Percival," Merlin smiled.

"There is so much about you to flatter, my lady."

"Like what?"

"Your beauty."

"I certainly don't feel beautiful right now," Merlin grumbled. Her hair was back into its normal bun and she was wearing her usual brown trousers; but this time she had combined a purple shirt and a grey neckerchief, and the combination looked strangely becoming.

Her horse skirted sideways and she calmed her with a, "Shh, Katriona." Resuming normal riding, she turned her head to look at Percival.

They were both at the back of the procession. In the lead were Arthur and the visiting dignitaries. Behind them, a line of knights. Following them came beaters. Then, right at the back of the hunting line, were Percival and Merlin. Merlin didn't mind being at the back, actually; no one could hear them talking and they were free to walk while the others trotted, giving their horses a break for a few seconds.

"Canter," yelled Arthur from the front.

"Let's not," Percival said to Merlin. She laughed, patting her horse.

"Don't worry, girl – we'll take it easy for a while.

LINE BREAK

"I can't believe we got lost."

"In all fairness, they were cantering and we were walking, making it pretty hard to keep up," Percival pointed out.

"You're annoyingly right. Oh well. What's the worst that could happen?"

"A mythical creature kills us both?"

"You're right, I supp – aargh!"

A griffin blinked at her with a beady, irritated eye. It stood, stretched and cawed angrily. Its vision focused on Merlin with laser intensity.

"Uh, Merlin?"

"Yes, Percival?"

"Maybe we should gallop?"

Neither waited for a reply. The griffin reared and both horses took flight. It was all Merlin could do to hold on as Katriona took a flying leap over a tree trunk, clearing it with two feet to spare.

To her left, she could see Percival drawing his sword. _Damn. Damn damn damn damn DAMN,_ Merlin thought, sighing.

Presently they both arrived in a clearing; Percival slid off his mount and Merlin did similarly, preparing for the griffin.

It charged in with a noise like a stampede of elephants; Merlin muttered a spell and hoped the noise would be enough to cover it up.

Percival appeared not to have noticed the noise. He did, however, notice how his sword had turned an icy blue colour and was literally writhing with magic.

With no time to question the source of such a thing, Percival stabbed the griffin once, twice.

It fell to the floor, limp, the sword still intruding in its body.

Percival turned to Merlin. Her world turned shaky and black and white. She felt like she needed to sit down but there was nowhere she could that would allow her to make a quick getaway.

"That was you, wasn't it?" Percival whispered softly. "You have magic?"

"Yes. I was born with it. So go ahead. Kill me for something I can't help." Something broke inside of Merlin and a solitary tear dripped down her cheek. It landed on the mossy floor and quickly became insignificant to the world.

Percival stared at Merlin; Merlin stared back. Not defiant, not angry; but scared, like a little lost girl.

And, Percival realized, that was what Merlin was. A girl with magic, lost and isolated amongst those who scorned it. And to her, he was one of those people.

Percival had never felt more monstrous in his life.

 


	3. Chapter 3

"Of course I won't kill you," Percival breathed. Merlin looked up with wary eyes. When she saw the genuine care in the knight's eyes, she sagged against him in relief. Percival held her for a few seconds, confused, before realizing she was crying. "Oh, um…shush, shush."

Percival cradled her small frame in his arms. For a while they were both content to just stand there for a while, one finding protection in the other.

They only broke apart when Arthur's distant cry of "Merlin! Percival!" echoed through the woods.

Merlin hastily wriggled out of his arms and wiped her face with jerky movements. As the others came into view she turned round with a bright smile plastered across her face.

"Arthur! Look what Percival killed!"

Arthur whistled as he neared them. "Nice one, Percival." He walked over to examine the fallen beast.

"Hey," Percival whispered to Merlin, catching her arm. "You killed it, not me."

"And how am I meant to explain that to them?" Merlin hissed in reply, indicating the hunting party that had arrived just on Arthur's tail.

As more congratulations found their way to Percival, he nodded and accepted them, but still wore a small frown that Merlin didn't miss.

He got his sword back, and after wiping it on the grass to cleanse it of the griffin's insides they set off again.

LINE BREAK

"I still think you should get the credit," Percival said quietly. Once again, they had situated themselves at the back of the parade, but they were only a couple of horse's lengths from the second to last riders.

"You and I both know that's not a possibility," Merlin whispered back.

Percival was silent for a few more seconds, letting the familiar sounds of outside wash over him. Then he replied, "Why not?"

Merlin sighed. "Because I'm a servant, with no training in this matter, and you're a knight with every bit of training in this, and because I used"-she dropped her voice even more here-"magic to kill it, which is outlawed!"

"That's not fair," Percival argued, barely remembering to keep his voice down to a low volume.

Merlin glanced around to make sure they hadn't been heard by anyone before answering. "I know it isn't. Life isn't fair."

Percival thought, with a sort of sad sense of realization, that Merlin had probably had first-hand experience of that. And a lot of it, too.

LINE BREAK

"We're coming up to Camelot," Arthur shouted, and the wind carried his voice back so even Percival and Merlin could hear it clearly. Sure enough, rising out of the ground in front of them was the magnificent castle Merlin called home.

As they trotted into the courtyard, hooves producing a neat clipping sound against the stone, Merlin quickly dismounted and handed her reins to a waiting stable hand with a genuine, "Thank you."

Copying her example, Percival did the same and then hurried over to the slim serving-girl, pausing only to let a horse pass. He grabbed her arm gently and tugged her away from the others, towards the forest nearby.

"We need to talk," he said in an undertone so that the others wouldn't hear.

Merlin nodded in understanding and checked behind them to ensure that nobody was watching them with the intent of following.

It was a fairly long walk to the forest, and neither party spoke much to the other, except for awkward small talk: "The weather's nice"; "There's a bird over there"; "Arthur's getting fatter."

Once they were on the outskirts of the forest, Percival drew his sword. At Merlin's glance, he added, "Just in case."

"Just in case of what?" Merlin asked, sounding frightened. Percival couldn't work out why.

"Bandits," he said.

"Oh," said Merlin, looking suddenly relieved. "Good."

It took Percival a few more minutes of silent walking to figure out what she was relieved about. He opened his mouth to say something of comfort, but then thought better of it and closed it again.

When they had reached what they valued to be a safe distance from the others, they seated themselves on fallen trees. Percival brushed a few crispy leaves off the mossy top and then offered the place to Merlin.

They sat in silence for a few more seconds, both wanting to say so much but neither knowing how to phrase the words. Merlin opened her mouth a few times but then shut it, afraid that the words would come tumbling out in a great mess of anger and confusion and hurt.

Finally, it was Percival who spoke first and broke the silence. "How long have you been hiding this?"

Merlin took a deep breath in before answering. "Ever since I was born, really." She looked up into Percival's face and elaborated, "A few people know, but most would shun me if they ever found out."

"Who knows?"

"My mother…Gaius…you…my friend Will did know, but he…died a few years ago…a few other people with magic but you don't know them. The druids."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Lancelot did too."

The name brought a tightening to both of their throats and Percival hastily moved the subject on. "Are you planning on telling anyone else?"

Merlin shook her head violently. "NO! Not yet, at least. Maybe when the time is right, but I don't know when that'll be. It's not now, I know that for certain."

Percival was about to ask her another question (or ten) but it was at that moment that Arthur chose to walk into the clearing.

Merlin sprang up in a flash, clearly worrying whether Arturo had heard anything.

His face was impassive, but his tone of voice was perfectly normal. "Percival, training. Merlin, I need you to come and polish some of the swords and such."

Merlin nodded, hoping Arthur didn't notice her hands trembling.

Percival rose as well, and dropped his sword back into its sheath. He began to lope off in long, slow strides, and Arthur set off at the same pace. Merlin jogged to keep up with them both.

LINE BREAK

"Block! Attack! Swipe!" Arthur called, as two new knights trained. They were clearly amateurs but even Merlin could see a great potential in them, as she sat on the side, polishing a shield.

She thought Arthur said her name, so looked up expectantly. When she saw that he had his back to her she frowned and called him. He turned and looked at her with raised eyebrows. "Yes?"

"Did you call me?"

"…No."

"Oh. Must have been the wind."

"Maybe it's just you hearing things, Merlin. I wouldn't put it past you."

"Thanks, sire."

Merlin resumed her shining of the heavy shield, and was just putting it aside when she heard the whisper of _Merlin_ again. This time she realized that it _was_ in her head. She frowned and screwed up her eyes, concentrating on the muffled voices.

Distance, rather than defence, was keeping this conversation from here. But when she concentrated…

She recognized the voices of the visiting nobles immediately. One of them was a little way from her, standing b Arthur, watching the knights train. The lady was presumably in her quarters, and her husband was being giving a tour by some of the servants.

If Merlin was careful, she could pick apart which one was which.

 _Keep an eye on that serving girl Merlin_ the lady said.

 _Why?_ the one next to the Arthur, the son, asked.

 _We think she may be Emrys_ the father chipped in.

 _Are you sure?_ the son questioned, sounding suddenly excited.

 _We have our reasons; we only suspect at this point, but we need to be careful_ the father replied.

 _She could ruin our entire plan_ the mother added.

 _I'll watch her carefully_ the son confirmed.

Almost immediately, Merlin saw the noble by Arthur lift his head and look at her quickly.

LINE BREAK

"They know!"

"What?"

"The visiting nobles, the ones from Egottgless—"

"Eglesgott."

"They were talking about me in training! About my magic!"

Percival stared at her in confusion. They were back in the secluded part of the forest. "No they weren't. They weren't even all in the same place!"

"Through their minds!" Merlin said impatiently.

"Wait…they can do that?" Percival asked slowly.

"Yes, but they know I'm Emrys!"

"Okay, calm down…tell Gaius. He'll know what to do."

"You're right. Let's go!"

 


	4. Chapter 4

"Merlin, since they are from a magic kingdom, it is all too likely that they know about your magic," Gaius gave Merlin the 'you-know-I'm-right' eyebrow. She sighed and rubbed hands over her tired eyes.

"I know, Gaius. I just panicked, I guess." Then another thought struck her and she sat up straight suddenly. "Wait! They said I could ruin their plan! What does that mean?"

Gaius sighed and turned around, supporting himself with a single hand on his workbench. "They're probably just afraid that you'll mess up their plan to get Arthur to like magic or something ridiculous like that."

"Why would they be afraid of me messing it up? I'm Emrys! I'm meant to be supporting magic!"

"Yes, but all the legends speak of _you_ getting Arthur to warm up to magic when _you_ think the time is right."

Merlin opened her mouth again but then clamped it shut. Gaius's arguments were reasonable and balanced and made her fears sound completely idiotic.

LINE BREAK

"They're up to something, I know it," Merlin told Percival a few seconds later, jabbing her finger at him for emphasis before settling both hands on her hips and pacing restlessly.

Percival frowned at her, crossing his arms, then reached out and grasped Merlin by the hand when she next passed. She stopped abruptly and looked down at their clasped hands, surprised, but didn't object in anyway. "Look, I know this is a very over-used thing to say, but—"

"Get some sleep," Merlin joined in and they finished the sentence together.

"Right. It's late now, why don't we meet in the morning at training, we'll talk more then."

"Alright. Night, Percival."

"Night, Merlin."

LINE BREAK

"Arthur, Gwen, breakfast!" Merlin knocked on the door cheerfully and frowned when there was no response, not even a happy greeting from Gwen telling her to come in or Arthur grunting at her to go away…or words to that effect.

Opening the door with her hip (and then wincing at the subsequent pain that followed from opening a door handle with one's hipbone), Merlin barged in. She set the plates and goblets down on the table and busied herself with picking up various items of laundry off the floor. _Looks like some people were a little busy last night…_

Only after a few minutes did she glance up and then realize that no one else was in the room. "Arthur? Gwen?"

No reply. "Arthur! Gwen!"

 _Where are they?_ Arthur never rose earlier than he had to if he could help it...

LINE BREAK

"Morning, Merlin!" Arthur yelled cheerfully, striding down the corridor.

Merlin turned from where she was staring out of the window, and started. "Where have you been?"

Arthur's expression turned blank. "What?"

"I didn't know where you were! I was worried!"

Arthur held his hands up in surrender. "We – me and Gwen, that is – went out for a ride with the visiting nobles." He examined her face closer as she neared. "Is everything alright, Merlin?"

"I don't know! It's just there's this and then the nobles and then I don't know what to do about Percival –"

"What about Percival?"

"And there's this whole thing with Thomas!"

"Thomas? Head of the servants Thomas?"

"Yes!"

"What happened?"

"He kissed me!"

Merlin clapped her hands over her mouth. Arthur stared at her in shock for a few seconds, and then turned on his heel and ran down the corridor.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin crouched outside the council chambers. She sniffed resolutely and scrubbed at her eyes.

Arthur had marched in there with Percival, Gwaine, Leon and Elyan, the latter of whom had seen her hiding behind a pillar, but hadn't told Arthur at Merlin's finger on her lips. No doubt he had alerted the other three to her presence, though.

A few moments after that Gwen had trotted in, closing the door behind her with a firm click.

When Merlin had heard the deep drone of Arthur's voice from within, she had crept forward to the position she was in now.

First, he had greeted them all. Now, though Merlin could barely hear what was being said, she could tell it was a serious matter, and she was rather offended that she wasn't being involved.

She made out a few words, dismembered from the conversation: _servants...advances...eye...means...all..._

They made absolutely no sense. Merlin was about to risk opening the door just a crack when she heard footsteps coming down the corridor.

Cursing, Merlin ran back to the pillar and flattened herself behind it. Even as the king's maid, it was probably best to not be seen prying on private meetings.

It turned out to be Thomas, and as he strolled down the corridor, the doors opened. The knights ambled out first - Thomas halted in his way to let them pass.

They all shot him hard glances, especially Percival, and then carried on. When they reached the pillar they each looked her way - Leon smiled, Elyan nodded, Gwaine (predictably) winked and Percival touched her arm briefly.

"Thomas?" Arthur called from inside.

"Yes, milord?" Thomas said, bowing at the open doorway.

"Come here for a minute?"

"Certainly, milord."

Gwen hurried out as soon as Thomas hurried in and discovered Merlin behind the pillar. "Come on," she hissed, taking her by the arm and dragging her away.

"But I want to know what's going on!" Merlin protested feebly.

Gwen ignored her.

LINE BREAK

"How can we be rid of her?" Celeste said, pacing up and down in frustration.

"Might I make a suggestion?" Dylan spoke up suddenly.

"Go ahead. It's not like your father has any." Celeste shot a venomous glance towards Byrn, who stoically ignored it.

"We use Morgana." His parents looks at him, confused. Dylan elaborated, "We say we saw Morgana in the woods, plotting to kill Arthur. We send her off, ambush her, and kill the king."

Celeste smiled slowly. "Perfect. Now, if you'll excuse me - I have a serving girl to fool."

 


	6. Chapter 6

It looked like it was to be a pretty average day. Fairly average weather, normal chores, normal breakfast that she was carrying to deliver as normal to the normal people, Arthur and Gwen. So, all in all, a normal day.

Until a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her into an alcove. The trays landed with a clatter on the stone floor and the red wine spilled out in a puddle, seeping into the cracks between the slabs and starting to drip down the stairs.

Merlin opened her mouth to scream but another hand covered that. Her captor was behind her; she could feel their body warmth close to her back. A voice that Merlin recognised whispered for her to not scream or else, and she nodded assent.

The figure let her go, but barricaded the only exit available.

"Thomas!" Merlin hissed. "What the hell are you doing?"

He didn't look like Thomas. The handsome face and ruffled hair was still there, but the former was taut with distress and the latter lank. "What did you say?" he hissed, advancing towards her with a single step.

Merlin automatically backed up as far as she could go, only stopping when her back hit the rough edge of the alcove. "I don't know what you're talking about," she whispered, voice shaky and close to tears.

"What have you said about what I did?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Thomas, I really don't," Merlin mumbled, one tear escaping her eye.

"I know you like me," Thomas said, coming closer until he was almost sharing the same space as her. He grabbed her wrist with both hands. "Don't you?"

"No, Thomas, I don't! Leave me alone!" Merlin darted forward a few steps but stopped, crying out in pain as Thomas twisted her wrist roughly.

"And if you tell anyone," Thomas said, starting to back out of the space, "it'll be a lot worse than that."

Merlin glanced up from nursing her arm and glared at him. "Well, if you'll excuse me, Thomas, I have a job." She swept out, holding her arm and hurried back to the kitchen to grab another two breakfasts.

LINE BREAK

"What's that on your arm?" Arthur asked, lazily popping a grape into his mouth.

Merlin glanced down and saw a vicious red mark on her forearm from where Thomas had grabbed her earlier. She shook the sleeve down over it hurriedly. "Nothing," she replied. She walked over to make the bed but that didn't shake his eyes from her.

"Merlin," he began, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Gwen called, taking a sip from her goblet.

Lady Celeste poked her head round the door, steadying herself with a hand on the door. "Sorry, but could I borrow Merlin for a few minutes?"

"Certainly," Arthur said, gesturing to her with a slice of cheese.

"Thank you," Celeste said, ducking back into the corridor. Merlin dropped the sheets and hurried after her.

Merlin closed the door behind her with a soft click and bowed her head slightly. "Milady," she said politely.

"Merlin!" Celeste whisper-shouted. "I need your help."

"Yes, I know," Merlin replied, a little confused. "That's why you've asked for me."

Celeste gave a nervous trill of laughter. "No, that's not it. I saw Morgana earlier this morning, about a half hour ago."

"What?" Merlin asked, dropping her voice slightly and moving closer slightly.

"She was plotting to kill the king. I didn't want to tell them because I knew Arthur would rush off and most likely get himself killed, and the knights are a lot more likely to trust you than me."

"Thank you," Merlin said, absorbing the information. "I'll go alert the knights." She rushed off with no such intention, and missed Celeste's smirk of triumph as she glided back to tell her family of the success.

 


	7. Chapter 7

"Arthur, where's Merlin?" Percival asked, jogging onto the field, sword in hand, only a few minutes later than everyone else.

"I don't know," Arthur frowned, turning from a rack of crossbows to face his knight. He squinted as the sun hit his eyes, "Lady Celeste borrowed her this morning but that was quite a while ago. I saw her go into the forest, but I thought she would have returned by now. I thought she might be with you."

"Why would she be with me?" Percival allowed his sword's tip to hit the ground.

Gwaine, who was strolling by, whooped in glee, attracting a few stares, and practically skipped over to the two. "Even he doesn't know!"

"Gwaine—" Arthur started.

"Know what?" Percival interrupted.

"About you and Merlin!"

"What about me and Merlin?" Percival asked, completely bemused.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. "Gwaine…"

"You mean you actually don't know?" Gwaine paused, staring at Percival mournfully. "Does this mean it's not true?" he asked of Arthur, for all the world looking like a child discovering his birthday had been cancelled.

"Know what?" Percival questioned again, looking between king and knight.

"About you and Merlin!" Gwaine repeated.

"Yes, we got to that bit – what about Merlin and me?" a confused Percival replied.

"That…" Now that it came down to it, Gwaine seemed reluctant to speak. He looked at Arthur as if requesting permission (although this had never stopped him before) and then back to Percival, mouth opening and then snapping shut once more. "YouandMerlinareathing," he blurted out in one breath.

"Me and Merlin are a what?" Percival asked, not sure he'd heard the end of the sentence correctly.

"A thing! A couple! An item! Courting!" Gwaine crossed his fore and middle finger and waved them in Percival's face, making the knight step back a few steps in fear for his life. "Like this!"

"Wha-what?" Percival stammered.

"Did I trip over my words?" Gwaine demanded.

"We're not an…'item'!" Percival near shouted, making quotation marks with his fingers. His sword toppled over and the heavy hilt hit Arthur squarely on the foot. Arthur howled in pain and grabbed his toes, hopping around the training pitch on one foot. Some of the newer knights looked over, utter confusion written on their features.

Leon ran over to see why his king was dancing like a brain-damaged chicken and subsequently got punched in the face by a flailing extremity. Gwaine began to shout at Leon for assaulting the king and therefore committing treason. Elyan, at his own peril, began arguing with Gwaine before a member of the court overheard and sentenced Leon to death. Somewhere among the kerfuffle, Percival (even with his considerable size) escaped.

LINE BREAK

"Merlin?" Percival called softly, treading as softly as he could on the forest floor. He frowned as he reached a clearing where he knew Merlin often picked herbs. If Merlin was anywhere in these woods by choice, it would be here.

Concerned, Percival picked up his pace and ran towards an area he knew was infested with bandits. Cursing inwardly, he realised he'd left his sword behind but carried on regardless. He kept out an eye for any sharp or jagged rocks as he travelled, and picked up a branch that was pointed at one end, reckoning that something was better than nothing.

His mind wandered to Gwaine's words. Why did he assume they were courting? Yes, he had quite strong feelings for the maid, but he was fairly certain that Merlin didn't reciprocate them.

Sighing, he bowed to salvage a few stones that looked fairly razor-sharp and stashed them in his pocket.

LINE BREAK

Merlin cursed under her breath as she got thwacked in the cheek by another low hanging bough, this one covered in needle-like thorns. She dabbed away the blood that appeared, and then wiped her thumb on her breeches, leaving a smudge of crimson on the tan.

Then, suddenly, a sharp, searing, burning pain penetrated her side. With a gasp of shock and pain, Merlin dropped to her knees, clutching at the wound. With trembling fingers she prised up the shirt to view the gash.

It was three, possibly four inches deep, judging by the length of the dagger when she pulled it free and stung like hell when she prodded at it. Blood was flowing out as freely as wine from a jug and with each passing second Merlin grew fainter.

Merlin shoved aside her modesty and stripped off her shirt, compressing it into a tight, compact square and pressing it against the lesion. The cold now bit at her undisguised flesh and she hunched over, protecting as much of herself as was feasible from the chill.

Her head swam and the pain grew deadened and duller. _No_ , Merlin thought desperately, _no_.

With one last panicked thought, Merlin collapsed forward.

LINE BREAK

Behind a clump of rocks, a group of bandits cheered for their success. The leader, a tall, unwashed man, spat on the ground and stood. "Oi! Felix!"

Felix, the one who had thrown the dagger, stood as well. "Aye?"

"Go to the Lady Celeste and tell her we done our job. And look quick about it – and don't be taking none of the reward for yourself now, we share it equally. That understood?"

"Aye, 'tis." Felix hurried off to find the lady in question.

"Damn!" Percival hissed to himself as he ran for cover behind a tree. One lone bandit sprinted past him, and a few moments after he had disappeared into the distance another group appeared, this lot ambling along, taking their time and laughing to themselves. One of them, the tallest, nearly as big as Percival himself, nudged one of his comrades and winked, saying, "Well, not only did we get her, we got a show out of it too, yes?"

The others whooped and laughed, one making a callous remark. Percival's blood boiled as he realised they were talking about a young lady; his suspicions grew when one of them described her as being "too small and pale" for his liking.

As soon as they had passed, Percival took off again, leaping over branches that could snap and give away his presence in his hurry.

His heart leapt into his throat when he saw the young woman they had been talking about. She was curved forward, one arm flung out a careless slant, the other insecurely holding a navy wad of material to a bleeding cut. Her back was fair and scarred a little, but Percival ignored all that – he recognised those boots.

"Merlin!" he cried, scrambling down to the dip in the valley to reach her. Once at her side, he rolled her over, silently apologising about her modesty, and claimed the shirt to push against the slash as he guessed she once did.

 


	8. Chapter 8

The last candle was snuffed out with a wisp of smoke. The muted light, which streamed in through the arched window, gave the inhabitants the bare minimum amount of illumination required to perceive the skeletons of the furniture.

Gwen made her way over to the bed, engrossed in thought, braiding her cascade of curls. Her nightgown stroked the floor as she paced, the rustling alerting Arthur to her nearing presence.

He turned over, yawning, and bolstered himself against the headboard. "No news of Merlin, yet, then?" he enquired sleepily.

"No," Gwen sighed. "I asked all of the servants I could find, but all they could say was that she dashed into the woods early this morning but never returned."

"You shouldn't go into the woods unprotected and alone," Arthur murmured, kissing Gwen's temple gently.

"I know, that's why I didn't," Gwen replied softly, leaning into Arthur's warm, solid frame. "But Merlin did, which is why I'm worried. Could you go out there tomorrow to look for her? I know we're not supposed to use patrols to go in search of a servant, but maybe you could make up some sort of tale about an investigation that can't wait?"

"Of course," Arthur said, wrapping his arms around his wife. It is Merlin, though – she may have just gotten herself lost." His teasing words did nothing to mask his affectionate and worried tone.

_LINE BREAK_

Dylan twisted a dagger between his fingers idly. He watched as his parents, hunched over a map of the castle, muttered among themselves and pointed at various items. Dylan sighed and hurled the dagger towards the door. It thudded into the wooden door, meeting a multitude of others still embedded in the oak.

He glowered at his parents. Why did he have to get dragged into the plot? He didn't want any blood on his hands. They weren't even incorporating his thoughts, or involving him at all.

An idea occurred to him. Would they even notice if he crept out and informed the king? Probably not. Bitterly, Dylan rose and ripped two of the daggers out of the oak door. He slipped out of the room quietly, tucking the weapons into his leather belt as he went.

_LINE BREAK_

Percival laboured carefully on Merlin's wound, trying to wrap the most sterile substitute for a bandage he could around the lesion on Merlin's side.

When he had ceased, he wasn't quite sure what to do. He debated whether to stir her or not, and then became aware of the fact that she was shivering. Ashamed to have not thought of it before, Percival unbuckled his chainmail shirt and peeled off his undershirt. Delicately, he propped the fragile woman up with one arm and tugged the shirt over her head and rested her back down.

The shirt dwarfed her considerably, making her look minute and more delicate than she was. Her skin looked pallid against the harsh navy material and her hair was mussed. Still, to Percival, she was the most striking creature he had ever seen.

Her eyelids began to waver and flicker open, and her head lolled from the right onto her left shoulder. She moaned softly and raised the heel of her hand to her eyes, rubbing them both vigorously and wincing as she opened them to the bright sun. It filtered through the canopy of leaves above her, throwing dappled sunbeams onto her features. Merlin shifted so a shadow was covering her eyes and breathed out slowly, exhaling gently as a way to ease the pain.

She reached down with a trembling hand and lifted up the overly large shirt to spot wet strips of her own shirt plastered around her midriff. Merlin frowned. If that is my shirt…

She thought she recognised it as one of Percival's – the size fit that theory, as well. She inhaled deeply…definitely Percival's. It smelt like him. "Percival?" she asked in a frail voice, coughing slightly.

Merlin heard rustling next to her ear, but gave up trying to twist her head over when the ache got the better of her.

"You're awake!" Percival shifted so she could see him easily. His quick, sincere, relieved grin nearly made her break down into tears and, as it was, she felt the first of them sting at the back of her eyes like needles. Wordlessly she offered her arms. Percival, misunderstanding the gesture, leant down and slipped his strong arms around her back. He hauled her onto his lap as a means of supporting her, and Merlin wrapped her long arms around his neck. Percival, seemingly surprised, tensed for a moment but then relaxed, returning the gesture. Merlin buried her face in his neck, inhaling heavily.

When she had regained her composure, she whispered, voice cracking, "Can we go back to Camelot?"

Percival drew back slightly, eyes silently raking over her features. Merlin flushed under the scrutiny. "No," Percival said finally.

"Why not?" Merlin clutched Percival's shoulders, ignoring the fidgety feeling in her stomach. "It's urgent."

"What's most urgent right now is that you need to rest!" Percival gently detached Merlin from his shoulders. "You're ill, Merlin, and weak. We'll stay here for a few hours and then I'll carry you back. Try and go back to sleep, you need your energy."

"No, Perc, you don't understand!" Percival noted the nickname but said nothing. Unlike when the other knights took it upon themselves to tease him with the shortened term, he found himself unbothered and almost contented by the affectionate name. "The nobles, the ones from Eglesgott, they're plotting to kill Arthur! It's obvious to me now!"

Percival stroked her tangled and matted hair back off her face, tucking it behind her slightly pointed ears. He ran his rough thumbs over her cheeks. "Are you sure, Merlin? Because if we go charging in to Camelot, accusing visiting nobles of treason, and it turns out to be false—"

"But I know it is not!" Merlin gripped his much larger hands in hers. "Dylan – you know, their son who looks permanently annoyed – spoke to me in my mind whilst I was unconscious!"

"Merlin…that sounds like a trick to me. Maybe by killing you, Emrys, they hope to take your place, or gain some sort of respect?"

"No, Percival, please, we have to do something!" Tears welled in Merlin's eyes but she refused to let them fall. "Can we at least try to find out – only accuse them if we find absolute proof?"

Percival concurred, "Alright, but we will return later." He shushed Merlin's protests by holding a finger to her lips. "They are hardly going to attack in broad daylight, are they now?"

Merlin felt inclined to protest – it had happened often before. But the firm, set line of Percival's jaw, the soft concern in his eyes, told her he was certain in his decision. In any case, she could feel her eyelids drooping, and the throbbing in her side, previously ignorable, had been amped up to a searing, burning, repetitive slicing.

She felt herself being laid down, her head in Percival's lap. Her eyes drifted until they were closed, and it was too much of an effort to open them again. Her hair was brushed back off her face from where it had tumbled down. Gentle fingers combed through the knots in her hair, smoothing them all out until her hair cascaded down like silk. The simple motion nearly sent her to sleep, which at the point she would have gladly welcomed. Groggily, her moments sluggish and clumsy, Merlin fumbled for Percival's hand. Once he realised what she was attempting to do, he wrapped his fingers around her fist, and squeezed it gently.

With a small smile, Merlin leant further into his security and with a sense of safety and protection, fell into a fitful sleep.

_LINE BREAK_

When Merlin awakened a few hours later, it was fairly dark and she was being carried by sturdy arms through the forest. "Percival? Are we going back to Camelot?" Her words were quiet, and he didn't hear her. She repeated herself, louder this time.

"Yes – we've only been going for a few minutes though," Percival responded. "You've been asleep for about five hours." "Mm-kay," Merlin murmured agreeably. "Are we going straight to Gaius's chambers?"

"I thought that would be the best place to go first," Percival grunted. Merlin was light (perhaps too light) but underfoot it was jarring and rough, hard to walk on, so most of Percival's attention was focused on not stumbling.

"Yes, I can clean it and wrap it properly, I'll treat it with herbs later," Merlin said, more to herself than Percival. With an unspoken curse, Percival recalled that Gaius was absent until the next morning.

_LINE BREAK_

"Ah!" Merlin clenched her teeth together. "Damn," she whisper-shouted, bending over double. Percival hurried forward and straightened Merlin back up.

"Come on!" he encouraged. He pushed down on Merlin's hands using his, forcing pressure on the gash. Merlin whimpered and collapsed limply against Percival's chest. "Shush," he whispered softly, keeping one hand pressed over hers and rubbing her back with the other one. "I know it hurts, but you have to clean the wound."

"You do it!" Merlin sobbed. Every time a drop of hot water trickled into the cut, it felt like she was being pierced by the sharp metal again and her natural reaction was to yank her hand away.

Percival prised the cloth out of Merlin's hands. "If you want me too, then of course I'll do it." He caught her hands as she scrabbled to get away, having apparently changed her mind.

"No, Percival, don't, please don't!" Merlin begged. Percival kissed her on the cheek softly, and while she was still provisionally stunned, pulled the top up just enough to reach the wound. He began to wipe at the cut as gently as possible, but Merlin shrieked in pain and made a vain endeavour to push him away – vain because he had six times the strength she did, if not more.

"There," Percival said, after what seemed like an hour (in reality, it was only ten seconds, if that) to Merlin. "Can you bandage it or shall I?"

Merlin pointed towards him weakly and sat down carefully, folding the shirt up until it stayed up independently. She leant back on the chair, restless with agony.

Percival searched through shelves and cupboards full of medical supplies – he found herbs, poultices, potions, blankets, a human skull, but no bandages. "Damn," he muttered, moving to search the table tops instead. Finally, buried under a pile of loose sheets of parchment – one of which was titled, intriguingly, 'Human Spleens' – he discovered a roll of clean, white linen. Not totally sure whether it was actually a bandage or not, Percival shrugged and jogged back to Merlin, whose eyes were closed and teeth were gritted.

"I need to do it tightly," Percival told her quietly, "so it's going to be uncomfortable, probably." After receiving no response from Merlin apart from a noise that could either be consent or rejection, Percival crouched down next to the serving girl. Tentatively, he unwrapped a couple of feet of the linen and held the end down on the side that wasn't wounded. Switching the bandage so he held it behind her back, to his left hand, Percival bound the material around her torso so that it went all the way around her stomach and covered the lesion securely. He worried that he was doing it too tight and asked Merlin whether she could still breathe fine. When she gave him no response, Percival stood, alarmed, and shook her shoulders until her eyes blinked open. "No, it's not too tight," was her answer when Percival repeated the question. Satisfied, he tied off the bandage and chucked the roll back onto the table and tugged Merlin's shirt back down for her. This time she had managed to keep her eyes open and held out her arms, silently requesting help to stand. Percival gripped her forearms and yanked her to her feet, maybe a little too zealously. Still weak, she fell onto his chest and they finished in some sort of strange hug. "Oh…sorry…" Percival murmured.

"It’s fine," Merlin said breathlessly. She righted herself quickly, and after a moment of shuffling, when her feet tried to take her in two different directions, she hurried towards and out of the door, yelling, "Come on, Perc!" over her shoulder.

_LINE BREAK_

He supposed his parents had not yet even noticed his disappearance. He didn't mind – it was easier to escape this way. He accepted the saddled horse that a stable-hand offered him and mounted the stallion with a preoccupied mind. He had brought only clothes along with him on this trip, and a collection of daggers. He had enough with him so he could protect himself on the return home – he held no desire to murder anyone, but would if need be. It was perhaps two days' ride back to his castle – if he hurried, he could be out of Camelot before the plot was put into motion.

As he galloped through forestland, Dylan smiled broadly – he was free.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Lightning cracked across the sky in a jagged strip of harsh yellow, a contrast to the navy of the night behind it. Below, the knights on watch stood shivering, cloaks plastered to their chainmail by the torrential rain, drops pelting off their helmets with heavy thuds. There were no fires lit; there was no point, the rain simply extinguished the flames each time they were ignited.

Most residents of the castle were asleep, and had been for an extensive time. Gwen, nestled warmly into Arthur's left side, his arm encompassed around her, holding her close, had dozed off a long time ago, but sleep was evading Arthur.

It could have been the storm. Arthur had always been slightly mistrustful of storms, ever since he had seen a segment of the West Tower being blasted off by a jolt of lightning when he was seven. Somewhere, deep down, however, he knew that was not the case.

He was worried, anxious – more specifically, worried and anxious about Merlin. She had been absent for around two days now, and although Arthur knew Merlin always seemed to come back to Camelot safe and sound after her little 'adventures' as he had taken to dubbing them, she had never been gone this long. The last time she had been gone for an extensive period of time, she had stumbled back into Camelot covered in mud and dirt; her clothes were filthy, and the only patches on her face that were clean were streaks were tears had sliced through the grime. He'd asked Gaius if she was okay, but the answer he'd received was short, abrupt and mostly consisted of "don't ask her what's wrong".

To cut the long explanation short, Arthur was seriously concerned for Merlin's well-being. Also for Percival's – the knight had been seen dashing into the forest by the patrol, and upon being interrogated on his motives, the not inconsiderable man had riposted rather cryptically, "Just checking up on things."

A booming roll of thunder exploded, taking Arthur's eardrums with it. He winced and shifted out from under Guinevere, taking care not to wake her, and padded silently to the windows. He glanced down at the men standing there, some chatting to each other, some stoically staring straight ahead, and felt a rush of something like relief that he wasn't in their position, which was almost immediately followed up by another surge of emotion, this time of guilt.

"Arthur?" His wife's lethargic voice attracted his attention and he wheeled quickly, just as another flare of yellow illuminated the sky, and crept in through the windows. In the split second of light, he saw his wife's delicate features twisted in confusion and unease, her hands playing with the end of her long braid, her right shoulder exposed by her nightgown having slipped down, making her look even more vulnerable and scared.

"Yes, my love?" Arthur slithered back to their bed, sinking gratefully onto the warm mattress and tugging the covers back up over his naked torso.

"Is it storming outside?" Gwen asked, her teeth tormenting her bottom lip. Gwen wasn't troubled by storms as Arthur was (though he'd be loathe to confess it to anyone, even his wife); instead, she was pondering on the implications of a storm for Merlin if she was still lost somewhere, a thought Arthur had been nudged away ever since the rain had commenced.

"Yes," Arthur admitted, detesting that this would agitate his wife, "but I'm sure Merlin's fine, wherever she is. You know her, she's probably down at the tavern."

"You're right," Guinevere replied, even though they both knew she didn't think so. "She'll be fine. It's Merlin."

Arthur wordlessly held open his arms and Gwen tumbled, more than anything, into them. "She will be alright, won't she?" she murmured, feeling slightly more reassured now that her husband's arms were around her.

"Of course she will," Arthur soothed, kissing her temple gently. "She'll be—"

Gwen never got to find out what Merlin would be, because Arthur's low, comforting words were cut off by a grunt, and then a howl, and then a thud, from just outside their chambers.

The two shot apart, their breathing the only thing penetrating the silence, which had settled down to rest once again. "Arthur," Gwen began to breathe, but before she could continue her sentence any further—

" _Aaargh-uh!_ " came a pained cry, and then a heavy clunk, like a metal platter dropped onto a stone floor, and then silence raised its head again.

It took both of them a few seconds to react, and then they sprung into action. Arthur was the first to leap out of bed, quickly pursued by Guinevere; the former grasping his sword as he scurried to the door, the latter taking a moment to adjust her shawl over herself so that she was considered properly decent for a lady.

And then several things happened in quick succession, so quick that it was difficult to tell one event apart from the other. Byrn burst into the quarters before Arthur had a chance to fling open the doors himself, and, holding a knife that glittered with freshly drawn blood, pressed it into Arthur's chest. Then his wife, the Lady Celeste, also appeared, her weapon of choice a large shard of jagged glass. So far it was clean, but that didn't matter as she swept round to Guinevere and pressed it to her jugular.

"Guinevere!" Arthur bellowed, and fought to get free. He was hindered when Byrn pushed the blade a little harder into his chest, above his heart, and hissed, "If you want yourself and your pretty little queen to live, I suggest you do as we say. Now stop struggling, or you'll end up like those guards outside."

Arthur glanced outside, the flickering torches in the corridor providing scarce light, but just enough to show two guards lying on the floor, both trickling blood from their necks. Gwen, although she had not heard his words, followed Arthur's gaze and then immediately looked away again, mumbling, "Oh, Gods…"

Celeste, with the glass still hovering at Gwen's neck, began to tug her back, to the table where they breakfasted everyday. With her foot, she pulled out a chair and deposited Gwen into it roughly. "Arthur…" she whispered, her voice breaking, tears beginning to sparkle in her eyes as Celeste dug the jagged edge into the flesh where her neck and chest met. A thin line of blood welled up and began to spill down her chest.

Arthur tried to pull away again, but simply received a stinging twinge in his chest for his troubles. Looking down, he saw that the dagger had perforated through the cotton of his shirt and had carved out a small chunk of flesh. He felt he should be more worried about that, but his main priority was Guinevere's safety.

From down the corridor the resonance of footsteps echoed. Byrn growled in frustration and shoved Arthur backwards; he pitched into the bed and his head banged sharply against one of the posters. For a second everything went out of focus, and then fuzzy, and then funny-coloured; then small black spots appeared in random points of his vision and stubbornly refused to shift.

"Kill the guard," Celeste uttered imperiously, voice devoid of any emotion or regret for the life she had just ordered to be taken.

"Indeed, my love," Byrn smiled at her and marched out into the corridor. A second passed in silence, although it felt like at least an hour for those in the room, and then Byrn soared past the door, a shout drawn from his lips, his cloak billowing out around him so he resembled something akin to a giant bat, and all in the room heard him hit the opposite wall with a resounding crash.

Celeste snarled like a rabid dog and stalked towards the entrance of the room. "Who's there?" she snapped.

Gwen grabbed the opportunity to stand and hastened over to Arthur, who was still feebly making an effort to stand without anything supporting him. "Here," she said, sliding an arm around his waist and helping her husband to collapse onto the bed. She silently gave thanks to whoever was assisting them as she examined the back of Arthur's head. There was minor bleeding, but Gwen knew from her time helping Gaius that this did not mean Arthur was out of the woods; there could be bleeding going on inside, but evidently she could not fetch Gaius to check.

Whoever this person was, and Gwen supposed a sorcerer, he was clearly on their side. Gwen came to this deduction when Celeste was also blasted back against the wall with a rather magnificent shriek, accompanying her husband, and Gwen couldn't say truthfully that she hoped they were both still well.

A cloaked figure entered the room. Even with the fabric billowing about him, Gwen could still tell that he was slight and fairly tall; his hood was covering his face so she could not make out any of his features, but he advanced and crouched next to Arthur.

"I am Emrys," he said, and his voice sounded fairly high and light for a man's voice. He reached up to scrutinize the gash on Arthur's head as Gwen had just done a minute ago and his hands were slight and feminine.

"You're a woman!" Gwen blurted out before she could stop herself. Mortified, she wondered if the sorcerer would be irate, but he – she, Gwen corrected herself – chuckled and said, "Yes. Were you expecting a man?"

"I wasn't expecting anyone, but most of the sorcerers I have encountered have been male," Gwen confessed, watching the woman toil on Arthur's gash. She muttered a few words under her breath and the laceration began to close up.

"Most of them are," the sorcerer replied, and her voice seemed familiar. "You may want to clear up the blood, but the cut is healing and there is no internal bleeding. He may not remember all the events of tonight, and I am sure you can fill him in if that is the case." She stood and offered her hand to Gwen, who shook it. "Goodnight," the sorcerer said and began to walk towards the exit briskly.

"Wait. Wait!" Gwen cried, hurrying after the woman. "How can I repay you?"

"You don't need to. I live to serve this kingdom. I will clear up the mess outside, you should focus on Arthur." As Gwen opened her mouth to protest again, the sorcerer cut her off with: "Camelot is my duty, Arthur is yours. See to him. And don't worry about repaying me. Letting me leave with my head is payment enough."

Merlin hurried outside and muttered a spell that levitated Byrn and Celeste's bodies. They were either out cold, or dead, and frankly she didn't give a damn right now. Her head was thumping like she didn't know what and the wound in her side was pulsating. There was a thick paste coating her mouth and it tasted strange and like metal. Using the last of her energy, she transported the two bodies so they were lying next to each other neatly in the corner of the corridor. She trusted Gwen would know what to do from there.

Sliding down the wall, Merlin closed her eyes. She was exhausted and didn't care now if Gwen came out and realised it was her who had just saved them. She just wanted to sleep; maybe then this pain would end.

"Merlin?" Percival's voice hacked through the fog in her brain. "Merlin! Come on, we need to go to Gaius's." With the last of her strength, Merlin shook her head and slurred something to the effect of, "Don't want to go, I'm tired…" and she heard Percival sigh deeply and curse under his breath.

"I'll have to carry you Merlin, and that will hurt," he forewarned her. When he got no response from the almost-comatose Merlin, he reached over and slipped one arm around her back, the other under her knees. He was as gentle as possible but knew he'd still jerked her when her eyes opened abruptly and she hissed some rather inventive curses at him.

"I know, I know, and I'm sorry," Percival comforted her. "But we'll go to Gaius now, and he'll make everything better, okay?" Percival strode round the corner, carefully avoiding the bodies littering the floor, his focus on Merlin and her health.

 


	10. Chapter 10

By the time Percival had reached Gaius's chambers, Merlin's eyes had slipped closed, but she was still (barely) conscious. Breathy moans escaped her scarcely parted lips as she was jolted about in his arms. He was trying to be gentle and careful, honestly he was, but he had to hurry, and the stone slabs on the floor overlapped unevenly, and there were so many stairs.

He pushed open the door with his back, cradling Merlin to him tightly, hands trying to avoid making contact with her wound.

Gaius was snoring contently, lying flat on his bed, partially obscured from view by an ornate wooden screen. Percival remembered the occasion on which the gift was give, last year, on Gaius's seventieth birth anniversary, a lavish present from Arthur.

"Gaius!" Percival called, shaking the old man from his peaceful slumber awkwardly. Grunts and confused murmurs preceded his waking as he sat up and demanded, "Who's there?"

"It's Percival, and I have Merlin with me," Percival answered, absent-mindedly stroking her cheek. She seemed comforted by the gesture, and nestled her face into his large palm.

Gaius groaned as he sat up slowly, and Percival swore he could hear his joints creaking as they shifted and settled.

Once he had struggled to his feet, he hobbled to where Percival was, hovering near a cluttered table, as quickly as his arthritis-ridden joints would permit.

"Well, set her down!" he ordered, after lifting her eyelids temporarily, nodding towards the patient cot. As Percival strode towards the mattress, Gaius muttered to himself and scooped up various bottles and rolls of bandages.

"Move, move, move!" Gaius flapped his hands at the large knight, who was now crouched down next to Merlin's prone form. Percival straightened and hurried round to the other side of the cot.

"Why did you put her down like that?" Gaius demanded, indicating Merlin, whose back was facing up.

"I was going to turn her over, but then you told me to move!" Percival protested. Gaius opened his mouth to argue, but Merlin gave a little groan that diverted the attention back to her. Percival crouched down once more, and reached out to flip her gently.

When she was facing upwards, both men were surprised to see that Merlin's eyes were open and un-blinking, and her teeth gritted in pain.

"Merlin!" the two said in unison, both with similar tones of unexpected joy.

"Hurts," she whimpered in reply. "It hurts."

"Where does it hurt?" Gaius asked, his voice simultaneously urgent and kind.

"Stomach," Merlin panted. "Please, Gaius, make it stop!"

"I will, I will," Gaius soothed. Percival began to run his hands through her hair softly, a gesture that calmed her and didn't go unnoticed by the aged physician.

Gaius hastened to undo the clasp of her cloak, letting the material fall onto the bed, trapped underneath her warm body.

Frowning, Gaius held his hand to her forehead and then pressed his fore and ring finger to the pulse point in her neck.

"Her pulse is too quick," Gaius informed Percival. Percival wasn't sure why; he thought that his job was to comfort Merlin, he had no experience in medicine.

"She has a fever?" Percival guessed.

"Correct – good!" Gaius enthused. Percival had to wonder why Gaius was so eager to become more skilful at healing in this particular instance, but he was shaken out of his reverie when Gaius handed him a roll of bandages, and a bottle containing a thick, dark, blue liquid, with instructions to "soak the bandages with that – but not all of it, only the first arm length or so."

Percival did as instructed, surprised that the liquid was nowhere near as viscous as it seemed when it was poured. It also took to the bandages with a surprising amount of absorbency; one drop ran through the individual fibres of the material like blood does through a vein.

He offered it to Gaius, who refused with a shake of his head. His lips were pursed and his eyebrows had furrowed together – he was attempting to peel back Merlin's shirt, which was stuck to her stomach with dried blood. So far, Merlin had remained silent, although now that Percival looked at her face, he could see that her eyes were pinched shut, her bottom lip bleeding due to the assault from her front two teeth.

With his free hand, Percival resumed caressing her loose hair. Her eyes blinked open quickly and they flickered about until she found Percival. She looked afraid, he realised, and she rarely showed her fear.

Unsure of what he could say to reassure the younger girl, he continued stroking her hair for a few moments, admiring her curly locks. "Your hair's normally straight," Percival said quietly, more to distract Merlin than anything else. Gaius had now hurried away to his shelves, and was rummaging among the numerous jars and bottles.

Merlin had relaxed a little now that nobody was trying to disturb her shirt, and answered, "It was up in a braid before – it gets curly when you let it down."

"Oh, I see." Percival hesitated a moment; the sound of glass clinking filled the room. Even quieter than before, he asked, "What are you afraid of?"

Merlin was silent for a minute or so, and Percival was about to repeat himself when she spoke in a voice as soft as his, "I don't want to die."

"You've never been scared to die before," Percival pointed out gently.

"There wasn't so much to live for before," Merlin countered. "I mean – there was – but – not – I didn't – I wasn't – you –" She fell silent, turning her face away from Percival.

"What about me?"

"I didn't lo- that is to say – I mean – well – you know…"

"You didn't love me then?" Percival guessed. Merlin looked back at him, rapidly turning an impressively deep scarlet. Her mouth opened and her jaw worked, forming words but not lending them any sound.

"I didn't either," continued Percival. "But I do now. And if you do too, then…" He trailed off, not exactly sure where he had meant to go with his sentence. "Well, I love you," he finished, rather lamely in his opinion.

"I love you too," Merlin whispered, the first smile Percival had seen in what for him was an age stretching across her face. Percival was about to say something else, when he was interrupted by a triumphant cry of "Aha!" from across the room.

Gaius came hobbling back, holding a small jar of a pale yellow liquid and a small cloth. "Tincture of sassafras," he explained. "It dissolves blood; it may make removing your shirt less painful, m'dear girl."

Merlin nodded to show her understanding, but she clenched her teeth tighter in preparation. Percival moved his spare hand from her hair to her hand, curling his fingers around hers.

Gaius uncorked the vial and put the stopper to one side; he pressed the folded cloth over the now clear entrance and tipped. The cloth became faintly yellow in hue with the tincture and Gaius righted the bottle, placing it alongside the cork on the floor.

As Gaius lifted up the hem of her shirt once more, Merlin gripped Percival's hand with a renewed ferocity, her fingernails leaving pink crescents in his palm.

Gaius reached the point where the blood had dried and stuck the material to her skin. He began to dab at the gunge, satisfied when the blood began to fizzle away, dissolving with a faint hiss.

Merlin exhaled sharply through her teeth – Gaius glanced up but resumed his work without even a sympathetic smile or kind word. Percival supposed that he didn't want to lose his focus, so he instead took up that duty. "Merlin," he said softly, "Look at me." When she remained staring up at the ceiling, eyes ghosted over with tears that she was stubbornly refusing to let fall, he tried again. "Merlin, focus on me, just for a second."

She lifted her head, though it took her a great effort, and met his eyes. "It hurts," she whimpered, finally allowing a solitary tear to leak from the corner of her eyes. "It's not just…" she paused and inhaled… "the blood…it's dissolv…ing, it's also…my skin."

Horrified by her words, Percival glanced down, to where Gaius's hands were working. Seeing his stare, Gaius explained, "There are several layers of skin; the tincture is, for lack of a better word, eroding the first one or two."

"Just hold on," Percival soothed her, stroking her hand with his thumb. To Gaius, he asked, "Is there not another way to do this?"

"Afraid not. This tincture is the only way to dissolve the blood. If it were merely on her clothes it would not be nearly as bad. However – it has stuck in clumps on the skin, and to get rid of it, the skin must go too." Gaius's voice lacked emotion, but his eyes did not. They contained sorrow and empathy – he was merely trying to make himself less emotionally attached. From the slight quivering of his aged, wrinkled hands, perhaps it wasn't completely successful.

Percival turned his attention back to Merlin. She was rigid, her muscles tight and clenched to deal with the intense pain shooting through her. Her hair was messily splayed out on the pillow, but one or two strands had clung to her face and were now damp with the sheen of sweat on Merlin's skin. Percival laid the bandage down carefully on the side on the mattress, wiping his fingers on his breeches, brushed them away with careful, soft fingers – Merlin jerked in surprise and her eyes flew open, blinking rapidly to adjust to the sudden light.

"It's okay," Percival said slowly, making sure Merlin was catching every word. "You're going to be fine. I'm here; I'll always be here. You're going to be fine."

Merlin wasn't calmed by his words, at least not visibly. She allowed him to retain her hand in his grasp, but otherwise shook off his comfort.

It should only be a few seconds now," Gaius murmured, dabbing diligently.

"Few seconds too many," Merlin hissed, clutching Percival's hand. He wondered idly whether his hand might actually snap in two.

"Aha!" came Gaius's triumphant cry. "Percival, I have to ask you to leave – I need to remove her shirt to treat the wound."

Percival rose to depart, but Merlin refused to let go of his large hand, even if her grip was (thankfully) a little looser than before. "I want you to stay," she mumbled, her voice shaky from unshed tears and the sparks of pain that were still bouncing around her body.

Gaius looked between the two with a raised eyebrow, evidently trying to deduce their relationship. When both their faces gave him nothing, he nodded to Percival and instructed, "Sit behind her, propping up her back."

Percival did so, crossing his legs so he could fit comfortably. He gently raised her up and then back down again, so that her head was on his chest, his hands providing extra support to the slope of her back.

"We will take if off by pulling on the sleeves," Gaius said briskly. "Merlin, I need you to raise your arms for us. I know it will hurt a little, but it will save your life."

Merlin lifted her arms with a grudging reluctance, wincing and grumbling under her breath, "Hurts more than a little."

Gaius pulled gently upwards on her sleeves, and Percival quickly transferred his hands from the fabric to her feverish skin so he did not interfere with Gaius's work.

The shirt was laid carefully at the end of the bed. Percival, confused as to where he should direct his eyes, shifted slightly, and then stared at the floor.

"I need you to be straighter," Gaius said, standing up as fast as his joints would allow. Merlin pushed herself up with her free hands but started gasping for air painfully before she had managed to make any substantial difference to the angle of her body.

Percival, without actually thinking his actions through, leaned forward and put one hand under Merlin's left arm, the other on her waist. He gently negotiated her body backwards until she was secure in his lap. "Sorry," he apologised, upon realising that he had just tugged a half-naked woman into lap – whilst in a bed.

"It's fine," Merlin muttered in reply, "it's nice."

Before Percival had any time to dwell on her words, Gaius bustled back to them with a hand full of vials, the other with cloths. "These will disinfect and speed up the closing of the wound," he explained to a nonplussed Percival; Merlin was in rather too much pain to care. "As will the bandage you have laid down on the mattress."

Percival gathered it quickly, not sure whether the old physician's comment was a rebuke or merely a passing remark. Merlin twisted her neck so that her face was partially obscured in Percival's chest; she seemed to find comfort in his strong warmth. The knight readjusted the way he was sitting so Merlin was more secure in his lap.

Gaius, who had watched this display of affection subtly, cleared his throat and held up a pristine, soft cloth to the light. "Percival, you'll need to hold Merlin down while we administer the cleansing potion; it will be especially painful now that infection has already begun to set in."

"Merlin?" said Percival quietly. When she didn't respond, even a murmur or slight shift in movement. "Merlin?" he repeated, more urgently, shaking her slightly.

"Wha'?" she mumbled groggily. "Was sleepin'."

"Wanted to make sure you were still with us," Percival responded quietly. He was graced with the reply of "mmph" before Merlin fell silent again, half of her face still buried in Percival's muscular chest.

"Are you ready?" Percival looked up with a start; Gaius, now poised ready with the sodden cloth in his hand, was looking at him expectantly. Percival nodded hurriedly, tightening his grip around Merlin's torso.

Gaius had barely touched the cloth to the wound when Merlin begun to scream. It tore out of her throat, ripped and tortured, the cry of an animal in such tremendous pain it wished to cease existing. Gaius winced but persisted with his job as best he could. Even with Percival's firm, secure grip she was struggling frantically, squirming and kicking. She was wide-awake now, and soon the screams that clawed themselves out of her mouth soon downgraded to sobs that racked her entire frame. And they were not just sobs of pain – they were also terror, and Percival could feel her body shaking and sweating.

Gaius has gone tight-lipped and strained at the sounds, but he had carried on, although Percival knew that it must have been torturous for the kindly man to inflict such pain on his ward.

LINE BREAK

Sunlight was streaming in through the small window that was obscured from view by the bookshelf next to it. Percival watched as Merlin twisted in her sleep, her hair dampened by sweat and her hands clutching at the bed sheets.

He had been instructed by Gaius to watch over her, and make sure her fever didn't rise too high. Percival laid his palm on her forehead – it was hot, but not fever hot; more likely caused by the blankets Gaius had piled on her.

He stood and stretched, his legs cramping from his long period of sitting. He paced around the room a few times, giving the strange artefacts Gaius had a quick look-over, and then bending down to examine a book entitled _Rare Herbs and Their Uses_.

"Perc?" He heard a quiet, cracked voice behind him. He turned quickly, flipping the book shut and hurried to Merlin.

"You're awake," he breathed in relief.

"Obviously," Merlin muttered. "Too hot."

Percival began to peel the blankets off her, tossing them onto the floor as Merlin began to struggle to sit up. "Careful," Percival warned, as Merlin's breathing turned raspy.

"I'm always…careful," Merlin croaked, massaging her throat. Percival snorted and threw the last blanket off, taking Merlin's warm hands and helping her to sit up properly, averting his eyes at her naked chest.

Merlin rolled her eyes. "You've seen it before," she pointed out, readjusting herself against the wooden board of the bed.

"Doesn't mean I have to keep looking," Percival countered, resolutely staring at Merlin's face. "I'm not Gwaine, after all."

Merlin choked out a laugh at that comment and then started coughing; she bent over as the coughing became harsh and rough. Percival hastily reached for the cup on the table next to her and held it to Merlin's lips. She swallowed obligingly and after clearing her throat a few more times, settled back down, tugging at Percival's shirt.

"Hm?" Percival set the cup back down and looked at Merlin expectantly.

"Hug," Merlin demanded, holding her arms out wide. Percival sighed – Merlin was making it very hard for him to be chivalrous.

Nevertheless, he lent in and wrapped his strong arms around Merlin, stroking her back and feeling her relax in his arms.

Merlin pulled back and stared at Percival. Percival stared back, and was about to ask why she was staring, when he suddenly realised what she wanted him to do.

He bent down and kissed her firmly on the lips, resting his hands on her bare hips. She kissed him back eagerly, kneeling up so she could reach him better.

He parted his lips against hers, his eyes slipping closed as the lazy pleasure of kissing Merlin took over his mind. Merlin had slid her arms around his neck, pressing herself against Percival, the feeling of his lips simultaneously soothing and exciting.

Percival didn't dare to move his hands any further, but Merlin seemed to have no such qualms; she sneaked her hands down and lifted his shirt to slip her hands underneath, feeling the muscles on his abdomen. Percival felt heat rising up his torso, flushing his face.

It was at that point Percival broke away, swallowing hard and breathing through his lips heavily. "Sorry," Merlin stuttered, "did I do something wrong?"

"No, not that," Percival said, "I just wouldn't be able to control myself for much longer." He admired Merlin's pink, swollen lips and the way her cheeks had a tint of red to them now. He resisted the temptation to glance down her body to see if anything else was reddened and stood up instead. "I'll find you a shirt. Gaius said you could put one on when you woke up."

"Up those stairs, in the wardrobe," Merlin directed, and Percival ducked to go through the small doorway. He eyed Merlin's small bedroom, realising that he'd never given where she lived much thought. As he retrieved a shirt from the wardrobe, he realised that Merlin's room was smaller than his bathing area that he owned in the castle. Percival frowned.

When they got married, he would move her in with him.

Percival paused in the act of closing the wardrobe's door; where did that thought come from?

 


	11. Chapter 11

Merlin touched her hair self-consciously, checking the loose braid was still in place. An ivory flower, a gift from Gwen, had been scraped into her scalp – "Beauty is pain!" Gwen had exclaimed, stabbing her with the sharp hair pins – to hold any loose strands in place, and to compliment her dress.

It had a slim corset that flattered her slim figure and then a skirt that fluffed out gently, cascading down in layers. Her shoes were not visible, hidden by the dress, but they were also ivory white and slightly heeled.

"I can't do this, Gwen," Merlin breathed, staring at herself in the full length mirror. "I'm going to trip on my dress and make a fool out of myself. I've already made a fool of myself, actually – I'm dressed up like a noblewoman when I'm only a servant!"

Gwen shushed her impatiently, smudging powder onto her eyelids. "Percival is a knight, and that counts as noble, so you are meant to be dressed up like this, actually."

Gwen stepped back, satisfied with her work. "You look beautiful," she said happily.

"I don't feel it," Merlin sulked, throwing herself into a nearby chair.

"Of course you don't," Gwen soothed, sitting down next to her friend. "You've had a lot of stress lately – there was this whole Byrn thing, and then everyone finding out that it was you who saved us and about your magic, and then Percival proposed, and then you had to prepare a wedding."

"It is very stressful," Merlin agreed, crossing her legs. "I hope Percival is serious about this," she added suddenly.

"Of course he is," Gwen laughed. "I overheard him talking to Arthur about you the other day – it was the happiest I've ever heard him! Relax, you're marrying the man you love. This isn't meant to be a cause of stress, it's a happy day."

Merlin breathed in and out deeply. "Right. Happy."

A knock sounded at the door, and a squire poked his head around into the room. "My ladies, we are ready for you."

He disappeared again and Merlin stood up, smoothing out invisible crinkles in her dress. (Invisible to everyone but her, naturally.) "Ready," she said confidently, striding towards the door. She stopped just before the handle, and Gwen was caught unawares, and plummeted straight into her back.

"Merlin!" she exclaimed crossly.

"Not ready," squeaked Merlin, pale as snow.

"Yes you are!" Gwen spoke firmly. "Now come with me, if you want to be happy for the rest of your life!"

Merlin allowed herself to be tugged from the room willingly. "I'm getting married," she muttered happily. Gwen heard her and smiled as they arrived outside the doors of the Great Hall.

"Ready?" Gwen asked, her hand on the handle of the door.

"Ready," Merlin answered confidently, rearranging her skirts carefully.

Gwen swung the doors open.

 


End file.
